


guilt like a brick

by newisalwaysbetter



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mention of Canon Death, Nightmares, Wetting, Whump, kind Lucy, set S2, soft!flynn, unkindness to the traumatized
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:20:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21655894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newisalwaysbetter/pseuds/newisalwaysbetter
Summary: Lucy has a hard enough time soothing the nightmares of a near-stranger without worrying about protecting him from the others, too.
Relationships: Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	guilt like a brick

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissCrazyWriter321](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCrazyWriter321/gifts).



> Based on this prompt from the wonderful @MissCrazyWriter123: "Flynn has a nightmare in the bunker, and comes out of it fighting the closest person. Who happens to be Lucy. It’s far enough into it that Lucy understands, she knows what’s going on and isn’t too freaked out, just wants to calm him down. But the rest of the team is Very Concerned, so she’s having to protect Flynn from them while also trying to calm him down."
> 
> Warnings for mild violence, mentions of canonical death, unkindness to a traumatized person, and incontinence.

It’s fair to say she’s been avoiding him.

For all their recent rescue of Garcia Flynn, that had more to do with her not wanting him to die. In the days since his arrival, however, Lucy has had bigger things to worry about then trying to connect emotionally with their newfound bunkermate. 

In fact, between her post-Salem fever and the untimely reappearance of Jessica Logan, Lucy hardly thinks of Flynn at all, besides the rare occasions she catches him scavenging through the fridge, or flicking through a paper in the common room.

(Even then, when Flynn looks as though he might speak, Lucy is careful to turn away quickly. The sight of him aches her in a way she can’t identify.)

But when she wakes to Flynn’s anguished yell, her first thought is _Please, god, no._

By collective agreement, they’ve exiled Flynn to the spare room at the far end of the hall. Lucy hardly notices the freezing concrete floor under her bare feet as she runs to his door.

Against the night, Flynn calls out for his wife and daughter, and a thorn catches in her heart.

_I trusted you with my family; I trusted you with my child._

Still, Lucy hesitates. Would he welcome the comfort, no matter its source? Or would it be kinder to let him alone, with both dignity and misery intact?

The question comes to an abrupt answer when the doors further down the hallway open, and Rufus, Jiya, Jessica, and Wyatt emerge in various states of undress. Lucy’s breath catches, and she steps into Flynn’s room without hesitation. She must be the first one to reach him.

He’s tangled in his blankets, wracked in sleep. Lucy can hear his long, creaking gasps between each strangled scream. For a moment, she only watches that powerful body thrash against the blanket trapping his arms.

When she kneels uncertainly beside the bed, one hand hovers over his heaving shoulder. Not for the first time, it occurs to Lucy how little she knows about this strange, dangerous man. Is it safe to touch?

“Flynn, can you hear me?” 

She taps his shoulder, and he comes awake with a yell.

Lucy tries his name as Flynn scrambles upright, but his nostrils are flaring, and he’s looking straight through her. _He doesn’t see me,_ Lucy realizes with dawning horror, a second before Flynn lunges.

She leaps back as she springs from the bed, fists extended. There’s only a moment to scamper backwards as Flynn staggers to his feet. “Lorena?” It comes out as a bullish snort. “No, you won’t take them.”

Rufus catches her as she stumbles back, and squeezes her shoulders in reassurance. “You all right?”

“I can’t leave him,” she says in answer.

“Look at him.” Jiya links their arms, and gestures back at Flynn. “There’s nothing you can do for him right now.”

Rufus’s nose wrinkles. “As if you’d even want to…”

Flynn gives a distressed cry. He’s grappling with Wyatt, who has managed to catch Flynn in a brutal half-nelson and is using it to force him down. “No, no. Lorena. _Iris…_ ”

(There it is, again. That churning her stomach. What is it?)

Lucy tries to move towards him, but Rufus and Jiya block her way. “We can do _Conversations With A Vampire, Flynn Edition_ when he’s a little more conscious, okay.”

“Rufus. He won’t stop for anyone else.”

In the moment those words hang between them, Wyatt gets Flynn low enough to toss him to the floor. He can’t catch himself, and the sound of his body hitting the ground makes all of them flinch, except Jessica.

“You can’t be serious, here.” Wyatt nudges Flynn with one foot, and shoots her an incredulous glance. “He’s gonna _hurt_ you, Lucy.”

“What, like _that?_ ” She pushes past Rufus, but Jiya still hovers protectively at her elbow, ready to strike. “Just step away. I’ll–” She’s aware of how funny it sounds. “I’ll take care of him.”

“ _Lucy_?”

The rasped words are so soft she barely hears them. Flynn drags himself up onto hands and knees. In the gloom, his eyes shine with wet. “Are you…here?”

There’s no mistaking, however, the acrid smell that fills the room.

Wyatt glances down and steps away, his face screwing up. There’s a wet spot growing on the front of Flynn’s jeans. “Gross.”

“Lucy? Lucy…” She meets him as he’s crawling forward on his knees, and offers him her hand.

“It’s–it’s all right.” He grips her wrist like it’s a lifeline, and as Lucy’s waving off the concerned glances of her friends, her voice skips, just a bit. “I’ll help you find a fresh change of clothes, and we’ll–” How will they do this with such a large man?–“we’ll get you back into bed.”

“I’m dreaming,” Flynn croaks, looking up at her with red-rimmed eyes.

She ghosts a hand over his scruff. “No, not any more.”

His eyes screw shut. “I…dreamt?”

“You had a nightmare,” she corrects.

Flynn buries his face in her hand. She can feel him trembling.

Jess leans over to Wyatt and murmurs behind her hand. “Backstory; didn’t he try to kill you guys? Why is he even here?”

Lucy swallows. She frowns down at Flynn, who crouches on the floor in his small pool of urine. One arm covers his face, and his shaking hand is white-knuckled on hers. “Because none of us deserve to fight alone.”

(She knows, now. Guilt is such a small word.)


End file.
